


Trips to the arcade

by Jackpotgirl1



Series: Pieces of us [4]
Category: Breddy, Twosetviolin
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Arcades, Comfort/Angst, Fluff and Angst, How Do I Tag, I Don't Even Know, M/M, Stuffed Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:33:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23492506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jackpotgirl1/pseuds/Jackpotgirl1
Summary: Original work from my wattpad.×××Cringe parts. Please. Spare me. And yeah, we jumpin'~! (I hope the jumping is good, haha!)
Relationships: Eddy Chen/Brett Yang
Series: Pieces of us [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1672330
Comments: 9
Kudos: 38





	Trips to the arcade

**Author's Note:**

> Original work from my wattpad.
> 
> ×××
> 
> Cringe parts. Please. Spare me. And yeah, we jumpin'~! (I hope the jumping is good, haha!)

There were cute trinkets or pastel-colored items mixed into his stuff. The brown bear-shaped eraser at the end of one of his pencils, a keychain of bubble tea with swirling liquid and pearls, and the bubble gum scented lip balm. So tiny, they blended well with the rest of his things.

Only one person in the whole universe recognized his kawaii cravings, and dutifully expanded his collection. That person was Eddy Chen, his best friend. His friend who was as straight as a ruler. So, right now, on the arcade on the way home, another item would add to his collection.

"Yes!" Eddy pumped his fist to the air as the claw got a hold of the fluffy pink bear. A toothy grin adorned his lips as he turned to his friend, who stood beside him. "Here comes the hard part."

He seemed unmoving, but Brett's grip on the strap of his violin case that hung on his shoulder tightened. The milk tea keychain swirled as he did, made unnoticed splashing sounds inside the small confined cup. Like the waves of thoughts and feelings inside him; all whirled, all mixed, all wanted to get out, but Brett's cup, made of secrets, avoidance, and misdirection, was able to withstand. So, he just let out a sigh. Scratching the back of his neck with his other hand, "It'll just fall again, man."

"It won't," then another smile, "trust me." And Eddy's attention went back to the doll.

Brett's own were on his friend, rather than on the glass of the claw. Bit type music played as the machine operates. An old song of sort, easily recognized by its tune. It wasn't the best, but at that moment, it felt right. _Ay ee ay ee ay / I'm your little butterfly._ Green, red and blue were the colors of the glass, all bounced off of his best friend's features.

His eyes smiled at Eddy's scrunched brows. Chuckled at the failed attempts to grab the prize. Laughed out loud as Eddy chewed on his lip, every time the doll fell back down from the crane's hold. He shouldn't be laughing at his friend's misfortune or the machine's manipulations of the doll's fate, but he's happy. As long as he was at Eddy's side, he's happy.

The catchy music kept on repeating over and over. Each time the claw let go of the doll, another set of rusty tokens were slotted over. Eddy's calloused hands return mounted on the controls. Long eyelashes fanned when he blinked. Lips glistened as his tongue stuck out, in concentration.

Brett silently prayed, hoped for infinite coins. He'd like more time to stare at his friend, but as all things are, it didn't last forever.

The music stopped. The lights turned off. The doll plopped, still inside the glass box.

Then Eddy turned to Brett.

"You ran out of tokens?" he asked and fixed his glasses with a sweaty hand. Almost got caught staring.

The taller scanned his friend's eyes, then sighed. Out of his pocket, Eddy fetched the last of his tokens. Then, he turned back to the steel hands of fortune inside the glass. "Last game," he said, and the remaining coins were slotted.

The bit music played. The colorful lights turned on. The doll was grabbed. And again, Brett's bewildered.

\---

Eddy smiled ear to ear, and his eyes can't contain the sweetness. Like the heart that popped up when he double-tapped the screen of his phone, his cheeks reddened. On his friend's morning selfie with the bear plush, with a caption of, "With my new baby: Blush!"

\---

"People who like too much stuffed toys are insecure."

Brett turned his head to his friend, who sat dead-like at the floor, with head resting on the blue-covered mattress. Eyes, that struggled to stay open, tried to focus on the ceiling.

The glasses-clad man stared at his friend. At Eddy's now more prominent Adam's apple, to his jaw that formed strong lines. To his neck that does this almost impossible bend. Doesn't his neck hurt in that position? Brett pushed the thought aside, as he hugged his pink bear. His muffled voice behind the fluffy head came out, "I don't believe you."

Without moving his head, Eddy eyed the blur in his vision, a blob of white and pink near him, that he knew was Brett. Followed by a slur of, "Why?"

"'Coz you're drunk."

Eddy didn't argue.

The evening air blew in through the open window and the half-mast blinds. Cans and cans of consumed beer scattered across Brett's carpeted floor. Same for the, now stale, half-finished potato chips. It was all dark and messy, the room and them both.

In the dark Brett whispered, to his now snoring friend, "I don't believe you..." and buried his head to the bear deeper.

\---

It was their turn to shoot videos at Brett's place.

With no announcement or whatsoever, Eddy went into Brett's room and grabbed the ratty blond wig from the closet, that he knew by heart was there. As he did, Eddy noticed the bed was missing an item. He looked around. Maybe he put it on a chair, in the closet, the bathroom?

He searched, but none. Not sure why, but Eddy's shoulders dropped. The messy golden strands wrapped around his tightened fist. In haste, Eddy went downstairs, to the living room, to Brett _._

Brett puts the camera in place when Eddy arrived at the spacious living room. He was about to greet him when "Where's Blush?"

He paused on what he was doing and turned to his friend. Brett answered, "In the washer."

With a relieved sigh and a smile, Eddy pat on Brett's shoulder. He put the wig on, and in a high-pitched girly voice, "Let's start!"

\---

A double-tap and a red heart popped up. With smiles on their faces, one in the picture, others on the picture, both of their days started.

\---

Surprised, Brett reached out to receive the item Eddy was giving him. On the open of his palm, his best friend put a small brown paper bag with a box of heart-printed plaster stips that peeked out. Brett huffed, and cheeks tinted pink. And through his thick glasses, the shorter looked up to his friend.

With a toothy grin, "I thought of you when I saw it."

The shorter's eyes looked back down at Eddy's outstretched hand, to the smooth skin, the graceful curve of his fingers, the pinkish nails, the green pulsating veins. The hand that was for mastery of the arts never suited for hardships and labor. Brett's glance lingered on the hand.

\---

The blinking streetlights and the dusty store lamps of some closed-off shops illuminated the path. Compared to the busy daytime, it was quiet and solemn. The closing hours of the market street. Exclusive to the people who live nearby.

Few shoppers, mostly who had overtime at work, bought ingredients for their late-night dinner. Most of the stores were already closed. Some stall owners swept their storefronts, wiped countertops, and tables, or stored in their merchandise. Others pulled on hard, with grunts, to the rustic shutters. Some stayed open, hoping for somebody to buy off all the remaining. Without the boxes of fruits or vegetables on the wide-open storefront, few resembled an interior of a house. The living room to be exact. And as all of them were, everybody was excited to get back home.

The two walked along the said market street. They had an unspoken agreement to escort the other to the bus station when the other wasn't okay with a sleepover. This time Brett walked Eddy.

Neither spoke a single word, as Eddy was glued to his phone, and Brett walked with a matching pace by his side.

Eddy didn't have to look at Brett to know he's there. Along with the taps of his fingers on his phone's keypad, where his friend's steps. Along with the warm summer night's wind, was Brett's humming. Eddy smiled to himself.

Quiet moments like this were easy to come by, were easy to pass by.

Near the bus stop was the arcade. And there Brett's humming and steps halted altogether. And again, Eddy didn't have to look to notice.

He stuffed his phone to his front jeans' pocket, about to ask why his friend stopped when he found him staring at the claw machine. So he watched him, in a breath, he then turned to what Brett was looking at. "That's the same as what I got you before."

"Yeah," said Brett, "Yes, it is."

"Yeah," he echoed. Eddy didn't know why his friend was so fixated with the dolls. Or in cute things in general, but in only one thing he's sure: He likes the smile Brett gives off around them. And Eddy wanted to give Brett everything he can be happy with. He would give him himself too if he could.

_Only if he could..._

Eddy sighed, straightened his shirt, and then reached for his wallet from his back pocket, "Another one, you want?"

\---

Brett woke up early. He slept in well last night.

So, after he washed his face, he plopped back into the messy bed and put on his glasses. In his arms, were a fluffy teddy each, and a toothy smile that reaches up to his eyes. In his feet, raised up to the ceiling, was his phone. And the early morning selfie on the bed was captured on.

-

A fond smile formed on Eddy's lips as he double-tapped on Brett's morning selfie. This time with his twins, the caption said, Blue and Blush.

To keep himself from smiling too hard, he had put down his phone. Eddy took a sip from his coffee. The calming aroma and the warmth relaxed him. Patient, he waited in the cozy coffee shop for his date to arrive.

He had a hunch as to why she called for her this early, on this day. They had been not in good terms as of late.

She had a reason to be angry. At him. To be jealous. At...

Eddy thought he can manage. Manage to tuck her long brown hair behind her ear without care for her non-existent glasses. Manage to hug her without thinking the breaths of should be a lower voice tickle his neck. Managed to close his eyes and kiss her lips without expecting it to taste like the bubble gum flavored lip balm he bought for him before.

Eddy let out a shaky breath.

Who was he lying to?

The man took another sip of his coffee. The sharp bitterness reminded him of how they started.

_"You guys look cute together,"_

Said the person he didn't want to hear it from the most.

\---

Brett watched Eddy, who sat beside him, as he failed to attach his shoulder rest for the nth time today. The cold sweat on his friend's brows, the slight tremor of his hand. Ugh! He hated the panic and disfocus on Eddy's face. There must be something on his friend's mind, and Brett was certain that if they don't talk it out, right now, that shoulder rest's gonna get it.

Brett sighed. Put his violin on the table, reached out for his case lying on the floor.

"Sorry man, this thing won't stick on," Eddy obviously panicked as he continued to struggle with the thing.

Carefully, Brett laid to rest his violin, same with the bow, its partner. He shrugged, asked just to break the ice, "How're things with you and Annie?" And closed the sleek black case.

Eddy put his violin, his shoulder rest, and his heart on the table altogether, after a moment he answered, "We broke up."

The shorter was lost for words.

Under the table, Eddy fetched his violin case, laid inside his precious. After that, Eddy weakly said, "Let's... Let's call it a day."

Brett wanted Eddy to stay the night, to talk to him, to cheer him on, but his friend insisted on going home.

-

Brett hugged the two bears on each of his arms tighter, as he stared at the ceiling of his room.

His mind wandered to his friend, from 'what he's doing,' to 'was he okay.' He had to sleep, but his mind kept drifting off. And the sensations around him, in his bed, felt like oil in a can of paint.

When stale, they resurface.

The bed's softness under him, the warmth of the covers over him, the company of his dolls by his side, all were substitutes. Substitute for the shoulder he wanted to lean on, the arms he wanted to be embraced with, the person he wanted to share his whole life wi--

"Stop," Brett said to himself, clutched to his head. He trembled. "Stop it..." He hugged himself.

He should stop harboring these stupid feelings for his friend. Eddy can handle it without him. Eddy can move on without him. Eddy can live on without him.

In his mind, 'He doesn't need me anyway.'

He bit his lip hard, to stop the shaking. Brett shut his eyes hard, tried to keep his mind from reminding, his friend's downcast eyes, the shaking hand, and the cheerless voice.

Brett hid his eyes behind his hands, from no one. Tears fell to his pillow on their own. Sobs and whines escaped on their own. Even Brett, don't want to see himself crying, but what he can do?

"He truly loved her, no?"

\---

The next day, it was Brett's turn to stay at Eddy's for shooting.

He brought a fully-packed duffel bag. Brett knew he'd be staying a night or two. Plus his violin. They had a huge backlog of videos to shoot and edit anyway.

It doesn't have to be just clothes to fill his bag. Brett stayed over at Eddy's before just with his violin. So, when Brett excused himself for the bathroom, Eddy peeked inside. It had bundles of clothes, toiletries, towels, his laptop and chargers, one thing he didn't expect to find was Blue.

"Where's the other one?" Eddy said loud enough for Brett to hear from the closed bathroom door, as he zipped the bag closed.

The bathroom door opened and revealed a Brett, brushing his teeth. In between brushes said, "On duty. Housekeeping."

And Eddy's laugh filled the room.

He noticed but didn't utter a single word. About the sight of red-stained eyes Brett.

\---

_One time when Brett walked Eddy._

_"I want to give a special gift to someone."_

_"Play a song for them," Brett suggested as he sips his bubble tea. Eyes stared down on the concrete below his feet. "Or you can buy them jewelry or stuff from the store."_

_"Nah, it's not 'special' that way." Eddy waved his hand in the air, in circles, as to help his tongue say out the words, "Y'know, like, I made my gift on my own." He sighed, "And you know, I suck at handicrafts, man."_

_"You're such a lost cause." The shorter deadpanned._

_"Or like," Eddy ruffled his hair in frustration. "Like, I put much effort into making it than just buying it from the store."_

_And as if on cue, Brett turned his head to the place they were about to pass by. At the end of the busy market street near the bus stop, was the arcade. "How 'bout that?" He looked directly at Eddy, lips hovered on the straw of his drink, as he pointed at the teddy bear-filled claw machine._

_Eddy glanced back at Brett, eyed the straw, then to what his friend was pointing. He chuckled, "You really like cute stuff, huh?"_

\---

One quiet afternoon at Yang's dining room. The duo was cutting out slips of paper for the next episode of violin charades. And out of the blue, Eddy randomly said, "Why are you still single?"

Brett gulped. His eyes visibly shook. Brett starred at the paper he's in the middle of cutting. Fingers dangerously close to the blade. The light made a sharp bounce of light. Illuminated a line, on his fingers, where blood would spill if he cut. Snip. ' _Why- why the hell he's asking this?_ '

"Is it still about your first love?"

His scissor-clad hand's wrist ran though Brett's forehead. To wipe an invisible sweat. If not careful the sharp would poke his eye. Stab. And he'll bleed. Brett licked his crusted lips and breathed, no, it suddenly was hard to breathe. Brett gulped, averted his eyes from Eddy's.

Then the taller's silence.

Brett didn't say anything. He rests his hands on the table. Both the paper and scissors, limply still held. Brett again swallowed.

Eddy stopped cutting. Put down his scissors to the table, the same as the sheet of paper. Shaky hands went to his lap, to hide from Brett, under the table. Eddy drowned in both the quiet of the room and chaos in his mind.

Ever since they were children, he knew Brett liked someone. And he had this strong urge to protect him. To keep him safe until that person claimed his best friend's heart. The person Brett never told him who. For the past years, Eddy did that. Just that. And he's in way too deep when he realized,

_'I wanted to be that guy.'_

Eddy bit his lip. Moisture started to gather in his eyes. His mind, his thoughts, his mouth, all uncontrollable. He didn't know how it sounded when it came out even,

"First love's aren't meant to be anyway."

Eyes wide. Hands flinched. Snip.

Eddy turned, "Brett!"

Brett slammed the crimsoned scissors to the table and ran off to the kitchen. Drops and drops of red fell to the white tiled floor. Trailed from his place with Eddy from the dining room to his solitude in the kitchen.

About to follow when Eddy was cut off with, "Get the first aid kit from my room... Please."

The cold faucet water hit his skin. Brett winced. The cut on his finger colored the liquid red. It hurt. His breaths shortened. It hurt. His dark eyes spilled liquid too. It hurt.

It kept on repeating. As he stared the whirlpool of red water draining on the stainless kitchen sink, in his mind was Eddy's hollow eyes, Eddy's disarrayed clothing, Eddy's fidgeting hand, and Eddy's words.

"I-I know that," Brett shook, sobbed, "I know that more than anyone..."

\---

Brett would always hear Eddy complain about his sore muscles or he had this kind of injury. The cool scent of menthol, drifted in the air as he opened the packet. Eddy carefully plastered the white mentholated patches on the aching parts.

His friend had been hitting the gym lately. It's good enough to see Eddy eating more and gaining mass, but there's this thing in Brett's gut feels, that something isn't right. Concerned for his well-being? Or for himself? Or for...

"Are you doing this to get back at her?" Brett paused, swallowed, gripped hard on his own hands. To support himself, for he spoke the words he never wanted 'yes' to be the answer, "Or to get her back?"

Eddy averted his eyes from Brett's gaze, and his own actions halted. He let out a large exhale, and other than that he was quiet.

Brett's grip on his hand tightened. Then, almost like a plea, he stuttered, "Just..." He gulped, "Just don't hurt yourself, please..."

\---

"Brett, promise me," words which came out as a drunken slur, "whatever I ask of you, you'd say 'yes.'"

No answer. Instead, Brett took a large gulp from his nearly empty beer can. Then crushed it with his hand, and tossed aside. Brett wanted to say 'yes,' but in reality, he should be wary. Torn apart by his heart and mind, Brett lowered his head and kept silent.

The television in the living room served as the background noise. They needed it for the two's quiet silence bounced off the low-lit room. The open windows let the summer night wind in. The sofa's decorative pillows, scattered on the floor. Eddy, spawled on the couch. Brett, sat on the floor, back resting on the sofa. Cans and cans of beer either finished or untouched spread out on the coffee table, same for the stale snacks and other belongings.

Eddy had the whole house for himself that night. His parents were on their anniversary vacation, and his sibling on a gig. Wanted to not to be alone, Eddy called Brett over.

"Kiss me."

"No," without a change in Brett's expression, as he stared blankly at the television. Bursts and flashes of colors reflected on his eyes, on his glasses, on his face. Brett then grabbed a new can. He opened it and took a gulp of his beverage.

Eddy picked up one of the frilled pillows on the floor he can reach. Covered his face with it. He let out a muffled, "Why?" Then a hiccup or a sob, "'Coz I'm drunk?"

He emptied his beer can's contents. Put it down to his side. He bit his lip and shook his head, "No... not like this..."

-

When Eddy woke up the next day, Brett was nowhere to be found. Laid down properly on the sofa, with a blanket, and the mess of the night before all gone, all Eddy knew he didn't do.

Out of habit, he reached out for his phone, to check for Brett's morning selfie, he remembered leaving it on the coffee table. He found it along with a bottle of water and aspirin.

On his phone, there was no notification of Blue, Blush or Brett.

Time passed, his headache long subsided too. And it was already noon, but still no message or social media update from his friend. Worried, the thought of going to his house crossed his mind. Without a second-guessing himself, he pushed himself out of the sofa, out of the room, out of the house. Walked out to go to Brett.

He had his destination in mind, but his feet have a decision of their own. It's too late to realize that he walked to the arcade instead. Eddy was about to leave when among the usual noise and clatter of the place, he saw a familiar figure there.

He saw Brett, exchanging a note for tokens. Eddy's unsure what got through him, but he got scared of approaching his friend. He stayed outside. Eddy watched him from afar.

After Brett got his tokens, he watched as he counted them. Small palms filled with the rustic coins. Eddy followed the figure with his eyes until he settled on the claw machine. The one Eddy played on before. The one where Blue and Blush were born.

Eddy watched brett struggle with the thing. He didn't mind the other patrons giving him glances from where he stood. With his hands on his pockets, he watched, he stood, he waited.

On Brett's 18th try, he got the prize. The same doll, in the color green. Eddy smiled to himself, 'What would he name it this time, huh?'

His friend was all smiles as he picked up the doll from the prize slot. Eddy did relate. A sense of accomplishment washed over him every time he won a new toy. Every time he gave one to Brett. Every time Brett smiled and thanked him.

He chuckled. Brett's smile. Eddy wanted that. He wanted him to smile for him too. He wanted him to be the reason for his smile too.

But he knew Brett won't. He won't. Brett had someone else in mind.

Eddy's lips fell, and his fist tightened. He sounded desperate. Too desperate. Why- why did his brain think that? It would have been enough to be friends.

Eddy can stay at Brett's side every day as a friend. Eddy can pinch Brett's soft cheeks every day as a friend. Eddy can say 'I love you' every day as a-- He brought a hand to his chest.

As a friend?

He clenched his fist, to the sharp pain in his chest.

No.

Eddy, definitely, wanted to be more than 'just friends.'

He looked one last time at Brett. At his figure. At his back, as the glasses-guy asked the lady on the counter for a paper bag to put his new doll in. Brett was near, as his eyes can see, far, as his hands can't reach.

Eddy's jaw tightened. 'How can I do things for you, when you can already do them on your own?'

And before more people make glances at him, before he made a scene, he turned around. Covered his trembling lips with a hand. And Eddy walked away.

\---

It's a little early for a visit, but Brett did so. Before his brain stop him, before his façade broke, before his confidence shrank, Brett did so.

With the gate on sight, he drawn in a large breath, then exhaled loudly. The paper bag in his hand, crumpled, as he grabbed to anything he can hold on to. He ran a sweaty hand to his hair, fixed his glasses, and rang the doorbell.

Expected or unexpected Eddy opened the door. Looked like he just woke up, in his crumpled merch, and shorts. Hair tossed in all directions, and Brett had to force all his will power to not to pat the taller's head.

"Come in," Eddy said, and Brett walked inside.

Brett didn't want to stay for long. So, after a few steps in the foyer, he shoved the brown paper bag to Eddy's unsuspecting back.

Surprised, Eddy almost fell down. He turned around to see Brett, "What are you--?"

His head bowed down, and hands tremble as he forced the paper bag to Eddy. Brett can't lookup. In a small voice, he mumbled, "I got this for you," Brett's grip on the bag crumpled the paper more, "I thought you need someone to hug."

Carefully, Eddy rested his hands on Brett's. Each hand on each. Then moved his palms, so Brett's hands were on top, brushed the smooth skin with his hand as he did. Eddy eyed the still trembling hand. He swallowed.

Brett stayed bowed down. His shoulders shook. He can't look up at Eddy. Not now when his whole face's flushed red, and his eyes, glassy. In his mind, 'This is all I can do for him.'

Eddy's fingers went their way in between Brett's fists. Little by little, he loosed them, finger by finger, he uncurled them. Eddy did this until Brett's hand, stopped trembling, relaxed. With one hand, Eddy removed the paper bag from Brett's hands and gently put it on his side.

Brett used his now free hand to wipe his face. He's screwed. So screwed. He can't stop the tears from falling.

He grabbed Brett's free hand and intertwined their fingers. Eddy said with a soft smile, "Can I hug you instead?"

Eyes wide from his friend's statement, he looked up. And before he can say a single word, Eddy pulled him into a hug.

Brett didn't want to let go and want to let go at the same time. He wanted to let go because he didn't deserve this. He didn't want to let go because this might not happen again. And whether he let it or not, Brett cried.

Brett cried loud because he loves him. Brett cried hard because he can't be with him. Brett sobbed, gasped for air. Brett Grasped Eddy's clothing, and his hair. His lips only mumbled, "Eddy, Eddy, Eddy," as he sobbed.

The taller enclosed Brett more in his embrace. Rubbed his back with a hand. Buried his nose, whispered sweet nothings in his hair. One of them was, "I love you dearly."

This only made Brett cry harder. 'No... You're not...' Shaky, "It doesn't make sense."

Eddy inhaled more of Brett's scent. Let go of his embrace to cup Brett's wet face with both hands. To make him look at him directly in the eye. "It doesn't have to to make sense."

Brett just stared at Eddy.

"Isn't 'I love you' enough of a reason?"

He couldn't speak. The words Brett always wanted to hear, Eddy said it. But why, Brett put a hand to Eddy's cheek, "Why are you crying?"

"I-" Eddy sobbed, rest his forehead on top of Brett's, "I know you've... always loved someone else..." Eddy closed his eyes. Difficult, but he had to say it. It was the truth. "Your first love, right?"

"No, Eddy!" Brett cupped Eddy's cheeks with both of his hands, this time he lifted the taller's head to look at him directly. Brett smiled softly, wiped the tears on Eddy's eyes with the thumb, "My first, and only love," brushed a stray hair on the taller's forehead, "is you."

And Eddy didn't waste any second to seal their lips with a kiss.

It was as soft as Eddy imagined, it was a good as Eddy dreamed of, and it tasted like the bubble gum flavored lip balm as he expected.

\---

The next day, Brett's morning selfie was with the triplets, Blue, Blush, and Jade, featuring Papa Eddy.


End file.
